


i fight for my nigga, take a life for my nigga (bang, bang)

by mayaschuyler



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hand Jobs, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, idk how to tag this honestly, not a ton though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 16:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13979509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayaschuyler/pseuds/mayaschuyler
Summary: He tells her about his childhood. His dead daddy, his name.N’Jadaka,he says sadly. Later, he tells her about Wakanda, the third world country that is anything but what it seems. Vibranium and technology unbeknownst to the rest of the world. She thinks of the photos of starving children and cattle farmers. She laughs incredulously, can’t believe the words she’s hearing. She tells him he sounds crazy.He storms out and doesn’t come back for two years.





	i fight for my nigga, take a life for my nigga (bang, bang)

**Author's Note:**

> the first time i saw the movie, that look of pure lust erik gave linda in the ambulance made me feel a way. so i finally wrote about it (and then some.)
> 
> title is from #hoodlove by jazmine sullivan

The first time she sees him is at a house party in Oakland.

Or rather, after the party has been shut down by the cops.

People are rushing for the exits and she panics, completely frozen. The noise around her fades and her vision is blurry. She gets knocked over by someone and ends up on the floor, people still rushing to get out. She curls up, having enough sense to at least try not to get trampled, when something hauls her up onto her unsteady legs.

“Come on, we gotta go!” She thinks she hears somebody, a man most likely. She feels like she’s drowning. Strong arms around her waist, she’s practically dragged out of the dark house trying to stay upright. “I got you, come on.”

The last thing she remembers is feeling the chilly air outside, the heavy breathing of the person holding her before she slips into unconsciousness. She dreams of nothing.

_________

When she wakes up, he’s there waiting for her in a chair near the window. She sits up and his eyes follow her intently. Her skin goes cold.

“You hungry?” he puts the book he’s reading down and stands up. “I can make you somethin’ if you want. Here.” He picks up a glass from the desk next to the bed. “Drink.” He holds it out and she takes a sip from the straw.

Flashes of the party dissolution comes to her. Sirens and running and shaky limbs. “Thank you,” she says to the stranger.

He smiles at her, and it’s warm but there’s something else. A sharp edge. She feels the coldness from before sink into her bones. 

“It’s fine. Ain’t gotta thank me for nothing. What you wanna eat?”

___________

He loves her, she thinks. Kisses her when the moment calls for it, sits with her mama for hours at their kitchen table. He slips her envelopes with cash when the gas turns off and leaves bags of groceries in her kitchen when the fridge gets too empty.

She doesn’t know where the money comes from. She knows where he lives, knows he doesn’t seem much better off than her.

She doesn’t ask.

___________

He tells her about his childhood. His dead daddy, his name. _N’Jadaka,_ he says sadly. Later, he tells her about Wakanda, the third world country that is anything but what it seems. Vibranium and technology unbeknownst to the rest of the world. She thinks of the photos of starving children and cattle farmers. She laughs incredulously, can’t believe the words she’s hearing. She tells him he sounds crazy.

He storms out and doesn’t come back for two years.

____________

When he shows up at her door again, her mom is freshly dead, ashes sitting in a storage room at a government office downtown. Her job is gone, punishment for missing too much time to grieve and make funeral plans. Funeral plans for a woman she never even got to properly bury. A woman she can’t bring home.

They don’t tell you about the fees needed to claim bodies in the movies.

She cries and he lets her. Let’s her cry for hours, for days. When she’s too dry to continue, he looks her in the eyes and she doesn’t know what he wants but she knows she’ll let him have it.

“Yes,” she says.

___________

He teaches her to shoot guns, to fight hand-to-hand combat. She’s a fast learner and she revels in his praise, though she’s not sure why he’s giving her these lessons. He says it’s for her own sake, but there’s something burning deep within him. A fire that she longs to touch. Their training feels like preparation and soon enough, she stops asking. She hits her targets perfectly, side steps his jabs, develops a strikingly cold demeanor.

This is her purpose now.

_________

He tells her everything. Shows her the journals, the ring, the tattoo.

He talks passionately about liberation, about vengeance. He’s taking the throne and he wants her there with him. He talks about freeing his people, about righting all of history’s wrongs. His voice rises with power.

 _King N’Jadaka._ She says it so quietly, she thinks he doesn’t hear.

But he does and he’s breathing hard, his eyes eerily dark. He’s still for a moment before pouncing. It reminds her of a lion.

___________

_No, a panther,_ she thinks as he fucks her. She’s soaked and he slips in and out easily, his body moving with a fluidity that contrasts his bulky muscles. He strokes into her slow and steady, each hard thrust pushing her further into his obsession. A queen. That’s what she is, what she’ll be. They’re going to save the world. Both of them, together.

She clenches down on him and he groans, fucking her harder. “My king,” she murmurs, feeling those same strong arms enclose around her as he hold himself up above her. “N’Jadaka.”

“Fuck. Yes.” He’s breathing hard, teeth coming down to bite her shoulder. “Say it again.” His hips slam into her, brushing against her clit perfectly. He pushes himself up on one arm, lifting one of her legs up higher. The angle making him hit her even deeper than before. 

“N’Jadaka. Please,” she feels the raised bumps that line part of his back and clenches again. She splays her hand out, feeling the muscle move underneath his scars. Those scars that permanently mark his skin, a permanent reminder of his power, of his passion and dedication. He’s killed for their cause, will kill more for their cause. Will kill anyone that stands in their way.

She seizes, back arching, cumming to thoughts of war and power and Wakandan sunsets.

___________

He’s silent as she carves into his skin, one last dot in the row of five fresh ones in the middle of his back. She’s careful, kissing his shoulder blade as she wipes the trickle of blood away. She’s gotten better at it, her hands not shaking at all anymore.

“It’s finished,” she whispers to him and he nods curtly. She takes the supplies and cleans up before leaving him alone in the bedroom, walking into the bathroom and turning the shower on. She knows it’s sacred for him, knows he hates needing her help, but she’s more than willing. She’ll do anything for him. _Anything,_ she thinks as she removes her blood stained clothes.

__________

She hates Klaue from the moment they meet in London. She takes pleasure in fantasizing about the moment she gets to put a bullet between his eyes. She imagines the look of surprise on his disgusting face, the sneer she’ll give him before the light goes out of his eyes.

She’s hired at the museum as a seasonal barista and cries when she gets the call, much to the surprise of the human resources manager. She hasn’t cried since her mother passed, since Erik found her a wreck all those years ago. 

These tears are different. This is different.

They’re finally going to save the world.

__________

“Just a black coffee. No milk, five sugars.”

She smiles at the woman, nodding. Her red hair is in a short, professional cut. Blazer tailored for her form perfectly. She’s distracted, checking her phone.

She fills the cup with four sugars and cyanide.

_________

“Help, somebody call an ambulance!”

She hears Erik’s voice from the other room with a few shocked yells. That’s her cue.

“I’m gonna take a break,” she leans over to her co-worker who’s looking over with concern. She slips her phone out of her apron before walking off. 

She types in a code into the application used to bypass the security camera, making sure the loop is working as expected.

Behind her, she hears Klaue and his men rush through with the stretcher. 

She hopes no one notices the smile on her face.

_________

Her adrenaline is pumping as they rush Erik onto the ambulance, She feels invincible, like she’s on fire but incapable of combusting. They lift him into the bus easily, her foot reaching out for the brake on the stretcher. She can see his maniacal grin, the way his hands reach out for her. When the brake locks into place, he nearly lunges at her, hands gripping her waist tightly as he presses kisses on her mouth, her face, her neck.

She keeps her hands on his face, laughing breathlessly as he nips her hard right over her pulse. The siren shrieks above them and Klaue is laughing like a madman, but it’s nothing but background noise to her. Erik grabs one of her hands, bringing it down to his crotch and she palms the hardness underneath his jeans, relishes in the grunt he releases between heavy breaths.

“We did it. We fuckin’ did it, baby,” he moans against her mouth as she unbuttons his jeans. There’s enough time before they get to the garage. She spits on her hand, never breaking eye contact before sliding her hand into his underwear, stroking him fast and hard. He closes his eyes, groaning as he presses his forehead against hers, his breath tickling her face. He’s throbbing in her hand and she knows he won’t last long at all. He rarely does after a successful job, the rush and excitement too stimulating. 

Pre-cum leaks out of him and she uses it as extra lubrication. Her arm is tired but she keeps going, feeling his body tense. Her nipples are hard, underwear surely soaked, but she stays focused on him, knowing he’ll take care of her later. He leans away from her, eyes closed and mouth parted in bliss. “Fuck,” he moans loudly and she barely hears Klaue’s voice, likely some sort of lewd comment. He’ll get what’s coming to him soon enough.

She pressed a hand to Erik’s cheek again, pulling him back in, kisses him sweetly and murmurs, “my king” against his soft lips.

He kisses her so hard she thinks her lips might bruise. He groans into her mouth as warmth spurts onto her hand and she smiles.

__________

Later, when it’s just them at the safe house, he kneels before where she sits on the edge of the bed, sucking and licking and biting at her until she can’t scream anymore.

She imagines him worshipping her just like this while she sits on the vibranium throne, the Wakandan sunset illuminating the throne room.

She gasps in surprise as she squirts on his face.

___________

Klaue is making his deal in South Korea and they wait.

It’s nice, to be with him like this. Just them. No murder, no planning. Just waiting.

It feels normal, for once. 

They fuck mostly, to pass the time and release pent up energy. He has her bent over the dining table, arms pressed into her back as he fucks her slowly while she’s pinned down. Too slowly for her liking. She’s begging him, completely helpless as he takes her as he pleases, making her gush as he grinds into her g-spot mercilessly. They’re in no rush.

Until the alarm system goes off and that can only mean one thing.

Klaue’s arm has been removed forcefully. They’ve got him.

She _really_ can’t wait to kill him.

________

She’s crouched next to the van, on high alert and prepared.

The wall explodes, debris and concrete flying. She hears Erik’s gun firing, disarming potential threats inside and she moves in.

They grab Klaue, still tied to the chair and carry him to the van. She ignores his shouts of them taking too long, putting him down and moving to get into the passenger seat again.

She hears the grenade go off and Erik firing more shots before a final explosion. He hops into the back of the truck, and they’re off, with him hanging out the back, surveying the damage and carnage left behind.

She can almost see the wild grin he bears underneath the mask.

__________

The van screeches to a stop, right behind the plane that’s leading them to the future. Her mind is eerily focused and hyperaware. This is it. This is the beginning of the next chapter.

They jump out of the van, carrying their bags to the single engine plane and she watches Erik closely as he chats casually with Klaue.

“On our way back, just drop us off in Wakanda.” She tosses the bag onto the seat, prepared to reach for her gun. She’s practiced this so many times, dreamed about it in her sleep and wake. He’s prepared her for this moment for years.

“You don’t wanna go there, boy.

“Yeah, I do.”

She hears the shots and moves for the gun but—

She’s suddenly got an arm around her, cold metal pressed against her temple and her blood runs cold. She’s failed. She’s failed _him_. Her mind has let her down again, just like that party in Oakland. She froze and now it’s over. For them. For her.

Klaue shakes her roughly and she puts her arm up, looking at Erik’s cold calculated stare. 

“I’m sorry,” her voice breaks. She knows this is it. “I’m sorry, Erik.” He'd kill for their cause. His cause. Kill anyone that stood in his way. He’s going to change the world. Without her.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says. There’s no warmth in his voice.

She hopes he doesn’t forget about her.

There’s a bang. 

She dreams of nothing.


End file.
